You Were Meant For Me
by Aidenk77
Summary: Through a series of snapshots from the eyes of Harry Potter, this is the story of his journey through life with the woman he loves. Harry is with Ginny, Ron with Hermione as the Wizarding Community expected. Still, Harry and Hermione have always shared a special bond. How far will this take them? H/Hr - Epilogue Compliant
1. Chapter 1

You Were Meant For Me

Chapter 1 

The Horcrux hunt, Winter/Spring 1997.

So, where do I begin? I suppose we always shared a common bond that not many did. Both of us were raised by muggles, both of us with our own burden to bear. For her, being the brightest witch of a generation while being muggle-born carried its own problems. We had our arguments of course, but they were never long term or especially serious. She always stayed loyal to me, trusted me and trusted my judgement. Ron's abandonment during the Tri-Wizard Tournament hurt, but Hermione's dedication, cool logic and belief is something very special to me.

It was during our year hunting Horcruxes that we first really shared a moment. Ron had abandoned us two months previously. She really missed him; I'd never seen her so upset. After a while she seemed to have accepted that he was gone, the words he parted with still rang clear in my ears, - _"I get it, you choose him." _I look back now and realise that he considered me a huge threat even then. I wasn't sure what I was feeling regarding her, the mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal mingled together and clouded my judgement. Did she have feelings for him then? I think she did, but she was in the same situation as me, the mixture of feelings, emotions, hunger, clouding and confusing things. I wish to this day that I had done more to comfort her but I simply couldn't find the words.

One night, just like any other it seemed, we had used a little polyjuice and purchased food from a local supermarket. The difference in mood in the tent after good meal was vast, listening to the wireless after the first hot meal in weeks and I had the urge to take her hand and dance, she reluctantly took my outstretched hand. I placed my right hand upon her slim waist as we began to slowly sway and rotate. It was the first time I'd really studied her face up close; her cheeks had a slightly pinched, hollow look to them, but some of the warmth and sparkle had returned to her soft brown eyes. I grinned ruefully and she smiled back, the first time I'd seen that for more than six months. We never spoke, she looped her arms around my neck and we drew closer. A weight, a burden seemed to lift from us as we enjoyed the warmth, the comfort, the safety as she gently rested her chin upon my shoulder.

The song ended and the wireless crackled into soft static, she looked up at me and I squeezed her, expecting her to move away, to resume her brooding. She paused, just for a second and pressed her lips to mine, she closed her eyes as I closed mine. The kiss was but a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. We broke apart; I squeezed her hand and smiled softly. There seemed to be a slightly awkward pause as we drew away, I flicked my wand and at the kettle and busied myself making tea. She had curled up in the armchair as usual, staring wistfully at her jar of blue flames she kept burning. I silently handed her a cup of tea and perched on the arm of the squashy chair, she gave me a small, crooked half-smile as she gratefully sipped the hot drink. We sat in silence for the next few moments before I'd finished my tea, I put the cup down and placed my hand gently on her shoulder.

"I'm going to turn in," I whispered hoarsely.

She nodded, turned her head and softly kissed the back of my hand, I flushed, embarrassed for a second.

I'd pulled on my pyjamas and was just settled as she came quietly into the bedroom, carrying the jar of blue flames, illuminating just how pale and drawn she was. She placed the jar on the bedside table and slipped her dressing gown from her shoulders, wordlessly she climbed into bed with me, her back pressed against my chest. She took my left arm and tucked it over her, resting just above her belly. I worried, embarrassed for a second, but it felt so good, just the warmth and the comfort, she seemed to not mind me pressing against her but drew me closer. I kissed her just below her ear and just on her shoulder before I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to birdsong, alone. I shivered as I pulled on my dressing gown and made my into the living area of the tent, Hermione stood in the kitchen area making tea, wearing just one of my old T-shirts, seemingly unperturbed by the early morning chill. This is how it all started, from that day on we shared a bed, and it just seemed that having someone to hold made us stronger.

Ron returned and that practice ceased by our silent mutual consent, after seeing Ron's vision in from the locket Horcrux, I realised just how deep his feelings were for her, his vision was truly his version of hell. She and I still shared something, some bond, something unspoken. We could never tell Ron, or have him find out we'd shared anything more than siblings love; the betrayal would seemingly destroy him.

oooOOOooo

Hogwarts – Summer 1997.

I stood in the middle of the Great Hall, surrounded by well-wishers, being hugged, grabbed, squeezed, and slapped on the back. Ron and Hermione stood over to one side; she with a cut across her cheek, her clothes tattered and frayed. Ron was staring emptily into space, his eyes rimmed red and face streaked. I nodded to the pair of them; Hermione stood on tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. His expression didn't change but he shuffled away to where I knew the bodies of fallen lay.

She came to my side as together we trudged up the many flights of the stairs, avoiding debris and stepping over chunks of masonry. The seventh floor corridor seemed mainly undamaged and the Fat Lady swung open for us without a password, The common room was deserted, there was no fire in the grate. I flicked my wand and repaired the smashed windows, I lit a fire which crackled merrily and brought new light and warmth to the room. She stood next to me, holding her left side, her breathing a little laboured. I motioned for her to follow me; we made our way to my former dormitory, noticing my name was still on the bed plan. I settled Hermione in the chair next to my bed and busied myself cleaning the room, fitting fresh bedclothes and sourcing fresh towels while she rested with a book from the small case. Finally out of things to do, I perched on the bed and addressed my companion.

"It's over then," I said quietly. "Seven years of our lives and it's over."

"Everything's going to change," she whispered.

We were interrupted by a sudden flash of silver light as a bright spaniel Patronus burst into the room. "Going back to the Burrow. Come whenever you're ready," came Ron's formless voice. The Patronus faded from sight and I caught Hermione's eye.

"I'm not ready to go there tonight. You?" I asked.

She shook her head. "He needs his family and he needs his space. I think Ginny will too."

I agreed with her, right now Ginny was the last thing on my mind, I'd planned on spending the night at Hogwarts before going back to Grimmauld Place. Hermione stood, a little shakily and held the arm of the chair. I moved over to support her.

"Could you take a look Harry, I think," she gasped, "I've broken a rib or two."

She slipped off her cardigan as I gently lifted her blouse on her left side. I traced my fingers over the large blue bruise, its felt lumpy, swollen and tender. I suspected at least one broken rib but I didn't want to bother Madam Pomfrey. I remembered a spell that Luna had once used on me; I placed my wand tip softly against the centre of the pain.

"Episky," I whispered.

There was a loud _'crack'_; she took a sharp intake of breath as I again traced my fingers over her smooth, soft skin.

"All better," she smiled, stretched and picked up a clean towel. "I'll take a bath now."

I watched her retreat and I again busied myself around the dormitory, pulling out clean pyjamas from her beaded bag. I made up a pair of beds and lit a fire in the brazier before knocking on the bathroom door.

"Come in," she called.

I made my way into the hot and steamy room, pausing for a second to hang her pyjamas over the wooden screen around the bathtub.

"Do you mind if I shower?"

"Not at all," came the echoing reply. "I promise I won't look."

I thanked her as I blushed, flicked my wand at the shower before undressing and stepping under the stream of hot, cleansing bliss.

I later drew the curtains against the deepening night and put another log into the brazier before climbing into bed. I'd just got settled before she joined me, she faced me this time, something she'd never done before. A thrill of foreboding leapt through me. "Thank you Harry," she whispered. "Thank you for everything."

She leaned into me and our lips met, our eyes closing. I reached and placed my hand in her hair as the kiss deepened, our tongues met, the kissing became more urgent, more intense, more passionate as she ended up straddling me, her pyjama top half undone. She paused, as if to gain control her breathing.

"Harry, we can't," she said softly.

I rested my head back on the pillow. "I know," I said heavily. "I… just…"

She turned over as I did, she pressed her back into my chest and I put my arm over her.

"Hold me," she whispered.

I felt her breathing soften and her body relax in my arms.

oooOOOooo

Grimmauld Place - Autumn 1997.

Summer turned to autumn, her nights drawing in as the leaves grew golden and scarlet. I joined the Ministry of Magic under Minister Shacklebolt, starting the Auror training programme. Ron started work at Weasley Wizard Wheezes', Hermione and Ginny returned to Hogwarts to complete their seventh year of formal education. Hermione and Ron were seeing each other, Ginny and I had rekindled our relationship, starting out slowly. We had met twice during Hogsmede weekends, Hermione on the other hand, being 'of age' was free at weekends and could travel. Most weekends she'd stay at Grimmauld Place, Ron would stay too.

Christmas came and the four of us spent the holidays at my home, Christmas eve Ginny and I were first intimate and gave our virginities to each other. Ron confessed over the break that he and Hermione had not moved past kissing. Despite my feelings for Ginny, my loyalty to Ron, I felt slightly elated. He returned to work on Boxing Day, Ginny a few days after returned to the Burrow at her mother's insistence. One afternoon in early January an owl arrived with a note from Ron saying he was having a big stock-take and he'd be staying at the flat overnight. Hermione looked fed up, sighed and returned to her parchment. I stood up and put my hand on her shoulder.

"I'll just head out and pick up a few things for supper," I said.

She crumpled up her parchment and gently placed her quill down, she said she'd come with me, so we made our way to the narrow hallway. I pulled my cloak over my shoulders and I helped her into hers. She gave me that crooked half-smile I remembered from the tent and before I knew it she was in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist, pressing into her as we kissed furiously, I ran my hands through her long, curly hair. We paused, both at the same time, out of breath, our cheeks flushed.

"Hermione," I breathed unsteadily. "We can't."

"I know," she whispered.

We left Grimmauld Place in silence and did not speak of the kiss again.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for reading. The next chapter takes us a few years into the future.

Just to let you know, I've finished writing this story and the intention is to publish a new chapter once a week. Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2 - Part 1

Chapter 2 – Part One - The Weasley-Granger Wedding - Spring 2004

Six years passed and I completed my Auror training programme, becoming a fully-fledged Auror Constable in early January 2002, Ron stepped down as the manager of Weasley Wizard Wheezes' and was twelve months through the Auror programme. Ginny signed for the Holyhead Harpies straight out of Hogwarts, helping, then leading to two successive league titles, earning more Galleons in two years than her father had in twenty. Ginny retired when she fell pregnant with our first child, James, born in January 2003. Hermione was about to become a full partner in a leading magical law firm and had been engaged to Ron for the previous two years. They lived together in a small cottage in Ottery St Catchpole, just a ten minute walk from the Burrow. We settled in to our home at number 12, Grimmauld Place, that was once so damp, dark and uninviting, is now a light and airy Georgian town house.

My relationship with Ginny was one that was almost expected by the Wizarding community, but I honestly wasn't sure if I ever truly loved her. She wasn't easy to live with, confident and outgoing but highly temperamental and highly strung. She had mellowed after the birth of our son but I could tell she was itching to get back to work.

Though we saw our friends often, we would have supper together at least once a week, it just wasn't the same. Hermione and I would lunch occasionally in one of the many cafes scattered along Diagon Alley, but she and I never spoke of what we shared all those years ago. Every now and then she would give me that crooked, half-smile, the one she seemed to reserve just for me, almost like she was testing our resolve.

2004 was to be an important year for our families, Ron and Hermione were to marry on the Spring equinox, Ginny and I on the Summer solstice. Ron's wedding was to be held at the Burrow, a quiet, family orientated event. The day before the wedding James and I travelled to Devon in my Christmas present, a sparkling new Mercedes saloon. Ginny, being far too impatient to use muggle forms of transport merely took the Floo; I personally enjoyed driving, the five or so hours from London passing in a blur. The sleek car looked odd parked up at the Burrow but was soon forgotten as I unstrapped James from his car seat and handed him to Mrs Weasley.

I spent the night sleeping in Ginny's old bedroom; she was spending the night at Hermione's cottage, while I struggled to relax and drop off, Ron's snores drifted down from his old attic room. James, in his crib did not stir and slept soundly all night.

The wedding passed without a hitch. I, as Ron's best man, stood with the tufty-haired Wizard who seemed to conduct these sorts of ceremonies, my hand on my friends shoulder as we awaited the bride. The music changed, Hermione slowly made her way up the aisle holding the arm of her father. I felt an unfamiliar stab of jealousy as I observed her, she looked utterly, utterly radiant, wearing a very simple strapless dress, so pure and white it made everything else look muddy and dull. Ginny, who was usually the centre of attention looked ever so slightly sulky, Ron looked somewhat bemused, almost like he couldn't believe his luck. Still, I completed my duties as best man, feeling oddly detached as I laughed, clapped, sang and congratulated. The ceremony completed, all the guests stood as the many chairs cleared themselves away. A swish from Mr Weasleys' wand created a large dance floor, and twenty white-jacketed waiters moved amongst the many people with trays of champagne. The floor cleared for Ron and Hermione, Ginny and I danced alongside them and after the first dance, as tradition dictated, the Best Man dances with the Bride and the Maid of Honour with the Groom.

I made an elaborate bow and softly kissed the back of Hermione's hand while onlookers jeered and cheered. Her perfume enveloped me as I placed my right arm around her slim waist and held her hand. We danced slowly; I twirled her and as she returned the corners of her mouth twitched as if she was going to give me that crooked, half-smile. Desire suddenly thundered through me, through sheer willpower I fought the urge, I think she heard the very faint, low growl emitting from my throat. She gave an involuntary shiver and held my hand a little tighter. The dance finished and she kissed me gently on the cheek. I bowed before her before I caught Ginny in my arms and twirled her as the next song started.

The party was in full swing, I danced with Ginny until my feet hurt, drank more glasses of champagne than I could count and feeling fairly unsteady I decided to step out of the marque and walked slowly around the grounds of the Burrow. Past the side of the house and halfway up the dark lane I leaned against my car, fished in my jacket pocket for my cigarettes and lit one with the tip of my wand. My body relaxed as I savoured the taste and blew out a stream of blue smoke. The peaceful night air was occasionally rent by a shout or a laugh from the party. My ears pricked up as I heard the soft crunch of gravel. Hermione stepped from the shadows as the moon peeked from behind a cloud, illuminating her as if a ghost. She nodded at me then pinched the cigarette from between my fingers; she took a deep draw and exhaled with satisfaction. My heart began to race as we shared the cigarette, she leaned into me as extinguished the fag with my boot.

"You look truly beautiful tonight, Hermione," I murmured.

She stood on tiptoes and softly kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Harry," she said throatily.

Desire thundered through me again, there was no stopping it this time. She kissed me again, our lips, then tongues met, furiously, I kissed her throat, her collarbone, her jawline, her earlobe as she fumbled with my belt and trousers, our tongues met again, more passionate than before as I lifted her as we kissed.

"I want you," she muttered urgently. She hitched up her dress as my trousers dropped; she rested her shoulders on the bonnet of my car as I pressed against her. She took a sharp intake of breath and held me still.

"Wait," she breathed. I was worried I'd hurt her or she'd had a change of heart but after a moment she bit my shoulder and clawed at my back as she urged me on.

She hissed my name as I came; I held her tightly in my arms as she kissed my neck and gently pulled my hair, I withdrew and she gasped before shimmying off the bonnet, fixing her dress as she went. I sorted my trousers out and fumbled for my cigarettes. Wordlessly I lit two and passed one to her, she took it and sucked gratefully. I sat back on the bonnet and tried to catch my breath; she linked arms with me and drew closer.

"Well, that was unexpected," I said hoarsely.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me quizzically. "Was it?"

I paused for a second, reflecting. "Not really," I conceded. "It was amazing, but it can't happen again."

She blushed and squeezed my arm. "I was a virgin you know," she whispered.

A mix of guilt, pride, exhilaration and possession coursed through me.

"Hermione, I…" I began.

"I wanted to," she interrupted.

I swished my wand and straightened out my clothes; she did the same and smoothed out her dress. Nothing seemed to be able to shift the glow from our cheeks but we linked arms and re-joined the party.

* * *

**A/N: **Part two coming tomorrow!

A massive thanks to my wonderful Beta, MrsFWDarcy for doing such a great job.


	3. Chapter 2 - Part 2

The Potter – Weasley Wedding – Summer 2004.

A few months after the Weasley – Granger wedding it was time for what the Daily Prophet had described as 'The society event of the century'. Ginny had squealed with delight when she'd read that particular headline. She proudly showed her mother the Prophet while we were over there for lunch, and then hooted with derision when Mrs Weasley offered the use of the Burrow as a venue. Months before Ginny had booked and paid for a large manor house in Somerset for the weekend of our wedding. Catering was booked, the Wryd Sisters were performing in the evening, there was literally no expense spared. The icing on the cake came when Minister Shacklebolt sent an owl to Grimmauld offering his services to conduct the ceremony. Over 300 invites were sent out, we hand delivered the invitations to the Best Man and Matron of Honour.

Ginny and Hermione took an international portkey over to Paris and spent a five figure sum on dresses and accessories, Ron and I had our morning suits tailored at Huntsman and Sons of Savile Row in Mayfair.

Finally the day arrived and I stood nervously at the top of the aisle, the warm sun dappled by beautiful and exotic lilies and roses, Ron's reassuring hand on my shoulder, Kingsley offering sage words of advice in his deep, slow voice. The string quartet began to play the Bridal Chorus by Wagner; we all turned to watch Ginny walk slowly up the aisle on the arm of Arthur Weasley. She looked so beautiful, her long red hair tied up in an elegant bun, shimmering and dancing in the light. I kissed her hand and shook Arthurs, Kingsley began the ceremony. I glanced around and received a warm smile from Hermione, looking stunning in a simple, pale pink dress. Something about her somehow seemed slightly different but I couldn't quite see and we sat on a nearby bench.

Ginny and I gave our vows and Kingsley completed the ceremony, placing a strip of fine silk cloth around our entwined hands. He placed the tip of his wand against the cloth which then glowed a deep and rich golden colour before it faded from sight. We kissed to cheers and applause from our guests. I led her back down the aisle and twirled her around before the journalists descended, demanding photographs.

Ginny was being interviewed by a hack from the Prophet and Ron had already disappeared to the bar, so I took my opportunity to seek out Hermione; I spotted her amid the formal gardens. I hurried over to her, took her elbow and we sat on a nearby bench. As we sat, I suddenly realised what it was that was different about her.

"I was thinking congratulations are in order, Hermione," I said softly, placing my hand on her belly, like I'd noticed her doing earlier.

"Ron doesn't know, neither does Ginny," she whispered. "I don't know what to do."

"So, you are pregnant then?"

She flushed and nodded.

Photography and interviews completed, we were led to the ballroom where Ginny and I stood, taking centre stage. I bowed as she curtseyed to our guests before taking our first dance; we twirled and moved smoothly across the floor. The dance complete, I took Hermione's hand and kissed it, before holding her close as we slowly twirled together. It was at this point as I studied her beautiful face, at my own wedding, to another woman, that I loved her, completely and wholly.

Later on that night sleep had so far evaded me; Ginny was fast asleep in my arms, so I gently turned her over and covered her shoulder with the soft linen. I pulled on my dressing gown and padded softly out of the room, the manor was utterly silent except for an odd rasping noise. The door to the ballroom opened with a soft click, moonlight streamed in through the large widows, illuminating the source of the noise, a fully clothed Ron, fast asleep on a chaise-lounge, mouth wide open. I moved quietly over to him, loosened his bow-tie and conjured him a thin blanket.

I continued my walk through the manor, discovering the large kitchens, servant's quarters, the drawing and billiards rooms; I followed a long corridor and opened a pair of heavy double doors to find a magnificent indoor swimming pool. Walking into the cavernous room I noticed a towel folded neatly on one of the loungers and there she was, Mrs Granger-Weasley, swimming with long, slow strokes. She was wonderfully and beautifully nude, long curly hair streamed out behind her. I regarded this fascinating sight for a moment before the heavy double doors closed with an echoing click. She immediately stopped swimming and quickly scanned the room. Her eyes caught mine and she gave me a soft, coy smile. She swam down the shallow end and climbed out of the pool; she picked up her towel and smiled again.

Want to join me?" she asked. "The water is delightful."

I was still at a loss for words at this point but managed to indicate my lack of swimming shorts. She giggled and with a crack of her wand and an odd sensation beneath my dressing gown, I found my boxers had vanished. I slipped my dressing gown off and entered the warm water, she followed me in as I swam a few strokes into the deeper water. I turned to her and lasted around five seconds before we were in each other's arms.

I pushed her against the side of the pool, she wrapped her legs around me as we furiously kissed, her neck, her breasts, she looped one arm around my neck as I pressed against her. With a moan of pleasure we moved together.

A while later we made our way into an adjacent sauna, I laid on one of the benches with my head in her lap. She cradled my head and pushed the hair from my eyes. I looked up and smiled, a warm rush of emotion welled up inside me. I shifted my head a little and caught her eye.

"I love you," I whispered.

To my horror I saw her eyes fill with tears, I sat up and cuddled her in my arms.

"I love you too," she said thickly.

"Where do you want to go from here?" I asked.

"We can't be together, Harry,"

I cuddled her a little tighter and we left the sauna a short while after, the sunrise was beginning to break over the horizon. Ginny was awake when I returned to our room, but didn't question my whereabouts.

* * *

**A/N: **So, that's the second part of chapter two, as promised. I hope you've enjoyed it so far, I'd love to know what you think.

Another massive thanks to MrsFWDarcy for her brilliant beta work.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Rose Granger-Weasley – Winter 2004

Six months passed since the Granger-Weasley wedding and the winter was already upon us, bringing rain, then snow showers, the streets gloomy and wet. Hermione told Ron and the Weasleys about the baby and with the exception of Ron, they all took the news extremely enthusiastically. Ron confided in me his fears of becoming a father. I did what I could to help him. If I couldn't be with Hermione, I'd do what I could to make her happy.

Christmas day came and after listening to Minister Shacklebolt's Christmas broadcast on the wireless, there came a sudden flash of light as Hermione's silver otter Patronus gambolled around the room.

"Ronald and Hermione Granger-Weasley would like to announce the birth of their daughter, Rose, born at 1pm today, weighing 7lb 4oz. Mother and baby doing well."

The silver otter faded from sight as Ginny let out a low whistle. "Two hours after giving birth and she can cast a full Patronus… How is that even possible?"

Two days after Christmas Ron's head appeared in our fireplace and invited us over to visit them at the cottage. Ginny squealed with joy, throwing her arms around her brother, while I busied myself collecting their Christmas gifts. Together we moved to the fireplace. I threw in a handful of powder as Ginny, holding James on her hip, stepped into the bright green flames. I followed quickly behind and landed softly in the grate of their fireplace.

We knocked on the door to the sitting room; Ron opened it with a cheerful greeting and urged us inside. Hermione was sitting on the sofa with baby Rose. She gave us a warm smile but she looked utterly exhausted. Ginny cooed and fussed over the babe while I sat on the arm of the squashy sofa next to her.

"She's the very image of you," said Ginny happily to Hermione as she picked up Rose to show me. Recognition, then panic, then exhilaration flashed through me as I gazed upon the baby, with her startlingly green, almond shaped eyes and black hair.

Ron left the sitting room to make some tea, after a few minutes of hearing rattling crockery, Ginny rolled her eyes in frustration and got up to help him. I sat beside Hermione and she leaned into me as my wife left the room.

"Congratulations, Daddy," she whispered in my ear.

"What about Ron?"

"I told him green eyes and black hair comes from my mothers' side of the family."

"He believed you?"

"He had no reason not to."

I sat quietly on the sofa for a moment, contemplating the news, when Hermione gently placed baby Rose in my arms before excusing herself from the sitting room. A wave of love overcame me as I gazed into her tiny scrunched up face. I put my finger into the palm of her hand and she gripped me tightly. I kissed her softly on the forehead and cradled her in my arms. My wife and brother-in-law came back into the sitting room, Ron carrying the tea things. Ginny fussed over Rose before taking the baby into her arms, I smiled at the pair and excused myself from the room, stepping outside into the crisp December chill. I took a deep breath of the clean countryside air and sat down on a bench in the garden and fished in my cloak for my cigarettes. I lit one, enjoying the peace and tranquillity of the rural outdoors. I heard the front door open with a soft click; I glanced up into the tired eyes of the woman I loved.

"Hey you," I said quietly.

She smiled and sat gingerly next to me. "Will we tell anyone about Rose?" she asked.

"I want to," I replied. "I want to shout it from the roof tops."

"It would break Ron's heart," she said calmly.

"I thought you didn't love him?" I questioned, feeling slightly frustrated with her. "I thought you loved me?"

"Harry," she said soothingly, placing a hand on my arm. "I do love you." She squeezed my hand gently and we made our way back into the cottage.

oooOOOooo

Spring 2005

Another three months passed and Ginny delivered us a baby boy whom we named him Albus Severus, after two of the bravest Wizards of all time. It should have been a wonderful time for our family. By all accounts, we should have been deliriously happy, but in truth, we were hanging on by mere threads. My workload at the Auror Office was increasing, while Ginny was forced to accept that she'd never play professional Quidditch again. We would row through the night and I'd end up feeling defeated and utterly alone. There seemed to be no one that I could talk to, not Hermione, not Ron, no one. We continued like this for months, all the while appearing the perfect family.

We celebrated Ron and Hermione's first wedding anniversary with a large Spring garden party where everyone clucked and fussed over Albie and Rose, James was spoilt by Molly. Rose's black hair had all but been replaced by soft brown curls, looking more like Hermione every day. She and I didn't share even a moment together alone at the gathering; it was with a heavy heart that we said our goodbyes, shaking hands with Ron, a kiss on the cheek from Hermione. I stepped back and she gave me that crooked half-smile as we parted. My heart soared, feeling elated as the Potter family made our way home to Grimmauld Place.

Time passed and Ginny and I had almost reached an understanding, it was like we were together almost as a matter of convenience, like companions, like business partners, not lovers.

oooOOOooo

One late spring afternoon Ginny and I received an owl bearing an invitation to the class of '92 Hogwarts reunion, to be held at the end of June at Hogwarts Castle. It was being organised by my old classmate, Susan Bones, who now owned her own party planning company. Rumours were already flying around, speculating who would likely attend the entertainment; there was even some excitement about the formal black-tie dress code. We arranged for Molly to have our boys for the weekend and I booked a room at the Three Broomsticks so we could really make a night of it.

Ginny and Hermione spent a small fortune on dresses, shoes and accessories. The weekend before the party I took my formal dress-robes out of the wardrobe. I was fussing with the bow-tie and smoothing the lapels when a shout from Ginny's dressing room reached me.

"Harry! Come in here!" she shouted.

I worried for a second and hurried over to her dressing room and burst in to find my wife and the woman I loved, arm in arm, giggling like schoolgirls. Ginny took a deep draught from her wine glass and winked coquettishly. She smoothed the front of her dress and smiled at me.

"What do you think?" she asked, twirling around.

I paused, speechless for a moment. I gulped and found my voice. "Beautiful," I blurted.

Hermione gave me a half smile and bent to adjust the hem of her dress. My breath caught in my chest as my libido roared, I however managed to steady myself as Ginny sashayed over to me. She threaded her arm through mine and pressed herself against me, brushing her hand across my face.

"Isn't he gorgeous, Hermione?" she cooed.

Hermione flushed and mumbled something; Ginny kissed me loudly on the cheek as I noticed a flash of darkness cross her face. She cackled with laugher before ushering me out of the dressing room, feeling thoroughly wrong-footed I finished preparing my dress-robes.

Finally, the reunion weekend was upon us, James and Albie were packed off to Molly's, our overnight case was packed. We disapparated with a small _pop _and arrived in Hogsmede with plenty of time to spare. We checked into our room, Ginny put the final touches to her makeup and I took a pre-party drink at the bar to smooth my nerves. A couple of Bearhuggers' firewhiskeys and I was feeling fairly cheerful. Once Ginny was ready, we walked arm in arm to Hogwarts, Ginny tottering along in her skyscraper-high heels, tutting and complaining that her feet were sore already.

The Granger-Weasleys were waiting for us in the entrance hall. As we approached, Ron casually but possessively put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. She and I locked eyes momentarily and she gave me an almost apologetic look. We greeted our friends with hugs and kisses and the four of us made our way into the Great Hall.

I'm not sure what I was expecting; there were around fifty people there. In a far corner of the hall Dean Thomas had set up a DJ booth and along the rear wall there was an enormous long table filled with food and drink. Unwilling to walk the length of the hall for a real drink, I grabbed a champagne flute from a passing house-elf.

A quick scan across the Hall showed almost a full turnout from our school year. Ginny paraded me around, speaking to old classmates and professors. I eased the process by helping myself to more champagne. People soon began to loosen up and as the alcohol flowed, the dance floor filled. Ginny wanted to dance but I just wanted some fresh air. I kissed her on the cheek and left the Great Hall, making my way outside and into the grounds; I spotted a familiar mass of soft, curly hair. We sat together on a bench overlooking the Black Lake.

"Hey you," I said softly as I retrieved my cigarettes from my jacket. I lit it with the tip of my wand and took a deep pull. She immediately pinched the fag from between my fingers.

"We don't have much time," she said huskily. "Ron will be looking for me."

I turned to her and we kissed, softly and gently at first, I sought her tongue with mine, cupping the back of her head as the kiss deepened. I suddenly broke the kiss off, knowing I had her full attention. I held her hand and looked her straight in the eye.

"I'm going to divorce Ginny," I whispered. We kissed again, furiously. "I want you to divorce Ron." We kissed again and again. "I want you to divorce Ron," I repeated.

"Yes," she breathed. "I will."

I kissed her again before nuzzling her neck and making her squirm with pleasure. I stood up to leave and kissed her on the forehead.

"See you back at the party," I whispered in her ear.

Back at the Great Hall the party was in full swing, most people were on the dance floor, Seamus was behind the DJ booth and Ginny was being twirled by Dean. I made my way over to the buffet table and poured a generous measure of Bearhuggers, before noticing that Ron was nearby, looking a little red faced. He looked a little vulnerable, so I thought I would press my advantage and questioned him about Hermione. We made small talk but something he said before he left resonated with me.

"It's like sometimes she's looking at me, but not at me, more like straight through me."

I felt oddly elated by this revelation so I made my way across the hall, poured another Bearhugger and swilled it back in one before I heard a low voice call my name. I looked up to find Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall. I shot him a quizzical look and he discretely beckoned me over.

"What do you want?" I said.

Draco smirked. "You know, Potter, you really need to be more careful about how you conduct yourself with another man's wife."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied brusquely.

"Well," he replied with malice. "What would Mrs Potter say? What would Weaselbee say?"

I panicked as what felt like ice descended through me. "Now, now, Malfoy, no need to be hasty here," I paused, trying to buy time as his smirk grew broader. "I'm conducting your monthly parole interview next week, how about if I see if I can't get it extended to six monthly?" A muscle twitched in his jaw and I knew I'd hit the jackpot.

"Interesting, Potter, interesting," he said in his slow drawl. "All right, I'll bite."

We shook hands as relief coursed through me; I poured and sluiced down another Bearhuggers just to further steady my nerves. I scanned the dance floor to see all my old friends dancing and having a great time, I caught sight of Hermione entering the Great Hall, she boldly walked straight up to me.

"Dance with me, Harry," she said, casting an eye out for her husband. "Ron won't mind."

"Err…" I stalled. "I'll just check with Ginny." I hurried over to my wife, still dancing with Dean.

"You don't mind if I dance with Hermione, do you?" I asked. "Only Ron's had rather a lot to drink."

"Of course not," she replied with a shrill giggle as Dean twirled her around again.

I took Mrs Granger-Weasley's hand and we made our way onto the dance floor. I held her closely as we moved together.

"I want you, Harry Potter," she crooned in soft, low voice. "Tonight."

A warm, swooping sensation crashed over me, as if I was standing at the edge of a cliff. I held her a little tighter and breathed in her seductive scent. The song ended and we broke apart, I watched Dean bow and kiss Ginny's hand and I did the same to Hermione. We all sat down together at a large table, chatting and laughing; the drinks continuing to flow.

The reunion party ended a few hours later and the four of us were well and truly smashed. We staggered out of the Great Hall and into the grounds, following the pathway back to Hogsmede. Ginny and Hermione had long since removed their shoes and had complained, but we made it back quicker than I thought. Once Ginny and I returned to our room, she slumped onto the bed and within a few seconds she was flat on her back and snoring softly. I sighed, brushing the hair from her face, undressed her and slipped an old t-shirt of mine over her head before settling her under the soft bedclothes. I quietly made my way out of the room, intending to have a last drink and cigarette before bed when I heard the door of an adjacent room open. Hermione entered the corridor wearing just a silky camisole and a coy smile.

"Evening, Harry," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"Hermione… Err…" I stuttered.

She shushed me with a finger over my lips as she pressed herself against me. We kissed, one hand in her hair, once hand on her soft derriere before I thought I heard a noise from one of the rooms. I broke from the kiss, panicking.

"Shush, Harry," she crooned.

"I don't think we should be here, out in the open," I whispered urgently.

She shushed me again, we kissed and she deftly undid my belt, dropping my trousers. She gave me a wicked grin and dropped to her knees.

* * *

**A/N: **I really hope you've enjoyed this so far. Let me know what you think.

Thanks again to my fantastic Beta, MrsFWDarcy. If you're into D/H stories, be sure to check out her work.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Autumn 2016

**A/N: **A word of caution, dear readers. Lemons in this chapter, lots of lovely lemons.

* * *

"I'll be fine," I repeated for what seemed to be the fifth time. "You're away for four days, not four weeks." I smiled at my wife as she clucked around me; she was just about to leave by international portkey to report on the upcoming New Zealand – England Quidditch match. She kissed me warmly on the cheek and I returned to my desk as she left my office.

I made a start on the huge pile in my in-tray and after an hour or so of working the stack was looking slightly reduced, a sudden knock at my door caught me by surprise.

"Come!" I called.

An Auror Novice poked his head around and caught my eye. "Sir, there's Madam Granger-Weasley to see you."

"Very god, Novice Smith, show her in please."

I opened my small drinks cabinet and poured a pair of whiskeys before the door opened again. The Novice showed her in and quietly closed the door as I greeted my old friend.

"Mrs Granger-Weasley!" I called. She smiled as we embraced; I kissed her on the cheek and offered her a drink as she sat down.

"Are you going to finally tell me what's going on?" she asked.

"You've done everything I've asked?

She smiled at me and counted on her fingers. "Hugo's at my parents, I've got the next two days off, my weekend bag is packed…" She paused, uncertain. "No funny business, just talking, right?

"No funny business," I promised. "Now, let's get the hell out of here." I raised my wand and lowered the defensive charms around my office, picked up my bag and winked at Hermione. She grabbed her bag as I took her hand and we disapparated with a small _pop_.

We landed gently in small woodland clearing; wordlessly I cast my arm in a wide arc, shielding us with every protective spell I could think of before I took Hermione's hand and led her to the cottage I'd rented, just a short walk away.

"Harry, it's beautiful," she whispered.

I opened the front door and took her coat. With a swish of my wand a chilled champagne bottle came soaring in from the kitchen. I opened it and poured two glasses.

"To us," I said.

"To us," she echoed.

I quickly drank the glass and set it down on a side table. She did the same. I took her hands and looked her straight in the eye.

"There's no pressure here, Hermione," I said. "No agenda. You don't have to listen, or stay." She made as if to speak but I shushed her with a finger. "It's been over ten years, Hermione. Ten years since I was last close to you." I blushed slightly. "Ten years since you last told me you loved me. You're all that I want, all that I think about." I squeezed her hands. She had paled, but her expression betrayed nothing. She released herself from my hold and I was shocked to see her eyes brimming with tears.

"I can't do this, Harry," she said thickly. She turned and made to pick up her coat before I stopped her.

"Wait," I whispered. She paused for a second. "I love you, Hermione. I always have, I always will." I looked straight into her tearful eyes. "Tell me you don't love me, Hermione. Tell me you don't want me."

She threw her coat back down and took my hand; we sat together on the large squashy sofa. She stiffened slightly as I tenderly tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, but she seemed to relax as I dabbed away her tears with my handkerchief.

"Over ten years," she whispered. "Not a day goes by that I don't remember every time we touched, we kissed. I promised myself I'd put it behind me."

"Hermione, I…" I began.

She shushed me with a finger. "We're not kids anymore, Harry," she continued, softly. "We've got responsibilities, families, careers…" She took a deep breath.

I took advantage of the momentary silence and kissed her gently on the lips, her body loosened and I cupped my hand on the back of her heade and kissed her gently on the lips, her body loosened and i , she responded with a moan of passion and our lips crashed together.

"I broke the kiss abruptly and gripped her hands. "Tell me you don't want this, Hermione."

I kissed the corner of her mouth, her jawline, just below her ear, trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone as she let out a soft, low moan. I undid the top button of her blouse and kissed the newly revealed skin. She made no move to stop me so I slowly popped the remaining buttons, punctuating each with a kiss before slipping off the garment as she softly moaned again. I captured her satin and lace covered breast in my hand. We kissed softly and deeply, seemingly more intimate than before, I felt her nipple stiffen under my touch. Again I kissed her neck, her sensitive spot just below her ear. Her rate of breathing increased as I dexterously unclipped her bra one handed, revealing her pert breasts and rosy pink nipples. My breath caught in my chest for a moment before I brought my mouth to her, sucking, nibbling as she ran her fingers through my hair.

"Tell me to stop, Hermione," I said in a low voice. "Tell me you don't want me."

Her fingers tightened in my hair but she never spoke, only seized the front of my shirt, bringing my lips to hers before she pulled violently, scattering my buttons across the room. She wrenched the shirt from my shoulders, running her hands up and down my chest. I returned my mouth to her breasts, she hissed with pleasure as I found the zip for her skirt. I slowly unzipped her skirt and she wriggled her hips to be free of it. I threw the discarded item aside and slowly slipped off her lacy, French cut knickers while I kissed her soft, pale skin. I stroked the inside of her thigh, earning more low moans. I traced a finger over her centre, revelling in just how wet she was. She moaned again, somehow more urgently, as I settled between her thighs, using my tongue I explored her most intimate area. She gave an involuntary shudder as I entered her with a finger and circled her clit with my tongue. She was close, very close, her breathing becoming ragged, her cheeks flushed.

"Don't stop, Harry," she rasped gutturally. "Oh God… Don't stop…"

Another couple of moments and she had tightly clamped my head between her thighs. I could feel she was just seconds away. She gave a violent shudder as I felt her orgasm wash over her. She continued to tremble and shake as she silently pulled me up and kissed me deeply. I paused for a second, furiously removing my trousers and boxers before pressing my hardness against her.

"Tell me you don't want this, Hermione," I whispered. "Tell me you don't want me."

"Please," she whispered. "Just… Please…"

She urged me forward and I entered her in one fluid stroke, she released a long moan as I buried myself to the hilt before withdrawing slowly, almost completely. She crossed her ankles across the small of my back as we kissed, passionately, slowly, softly; I squeezed and kneaded her breasts while we made love. She bucked her hips and urged me faster; I gripped her tightly and upped the tempo. "Harry, Harry, Harry," she chanted breathlessly. She held me tighter and I soon felt my orgasm rapidly approaching.

"I'm close," I hissed.

"Faster," was her reply as she came for a second time, which triggered my release deep inside her.

Once I had regained control of my breathing, I gently kissed her face as her eyelids fluttered open, kissing her soft lips as her eyes focussed on mine.

"Tell me you don't want me," I said in a hoarse voice. "Tell me you don't love me."

Our breathing eventually subsided and we cuddled, still naked, under a thin blanket I'd conjured; her head resting on my chest, her body moulded to mine. I smoothed her long curly hair from her face and placed a soft kiss on her smooth porcelain skin. She stretched lazily, arousal roaring through me as her breasts pressed against me. Her hand snaked down from my chest and I groaned in approval as she grasped me. Before I knew it she'd straddled me and I cupped her bottom with both hands as her nipples grazed my chest.

oooOOOooo

Much later, we sat up in bed together, naked beneath the bed sheets. We shared a cigarette while I gently caressed the side of her face. She gave me a weak smile before I noticed with horror that her eyes were shining with tears.

"What the fuck are we doing, Harry?" she asked in a low murmur.

"I thought you wanted this?" I countered. "I thought you loved me?"

"I do, Harry. I love you with all of my heart and soul." She extinguished the fag and cuddled into my side. "We just can't be together." I made a noise to protest and she gently shushed me, her voice lowered to the gentlest whisper. "It's not going to work, my darling."

She was correct of course, like she always was. She kissed my neck and ran a hand over my chest, my libido snarled as I pinned her down and claimed her lips with mine. She gripped me tightly and again crossed her ankles over the small of my back.

Later, as we lay nestled together under the bedclothes, I ran my fingers through her hair as we softly kissed. It was the first time we'd shared a bed since the fall of the Dark Lord. A sense of peace and serenity descended over me as I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke disorientated the following morning, but my heart leapt with joy as I realised the witch snuggled in my arms was the one I'd loved for more than twenty-five years. She began to stir, sleepily. I brushed her long hair with my fingers and kissed her cheek. I untangled myself from her and the bedclothes and went in search of breakfast.

Twenty minutes later I had scrambled eggs on toast and fresh coffee waiting for her when Hermione entered the cosy kitchen wearing nothing but an old a T-shirt, which to my delight, didn't quite completely cover her bottom. She smiled at me while I poured the coffee and motioned for her to sit down.

"I'll admit this doesn't feel quite real," I said softly. "This is the happiest I've felt for years."

"I wish it could last," she replied.

"It can my darling," I said, squeezing her hand. "I'll ask Ginny for a divorce. She knows that we don't love each other."

"The press will have a field day with that," she said darkly.

I shook my head. "They won't find out. Ginny will have half my estate; we'll sign magical non-disclosure contracts."

"What about the kids?"

"We'll talk it over together and work it out, I suspect James and Lily will want to stay with their mother and Albie will stay with me."

She nodded in assent and we finished our breakfast, enjoying the temporary tranquillity and quiet.

* * *

**A/N: ** I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was good fun to write.

More salutations to my fabulous Beta, MrsFWDarcy.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Summer 2007**

**A/N: **A further word of caution, dear readers. This chapter features the use of some very bad language indeed. Enjoy!

Ginny agreed to my request for a divorce with cold indifference. Initially I felt rather hurt by her lack of concern, but then my conscience caught up with me, sharply reminding me that it was I who had betrayed her so many times. We discussed the terms of our break-up in an extremely business-like manner. It was all very efficient. Surprisingly, Ginny did not allow her temper to get the better of her; no screaming, no shouting, or anger. Her lack of reaction was thoroughly unsettling.

Over the next few weeks I had the divorce papers drawn up. I would keep Grimmauld Place and we would have equal access to our children. Ginny would receive around half my fortune, in the region of three and a half million Galleons. She would be able to use it to purchase a home, furnish it and live in the fashion to which she had become accustomed.

At home we kept things relatively calm. We slept in separate rooms and avoided eating together. I spent more and more time at the office, burying myself in paperwork and reports.

Hermione and I had only seen each other once or twice since Christmas; our interactions unusually formal and with good reason. Percy Weasley, Minister for Magic was stepping down at the end of his seven-year term and Hermione was rumoured to become his successor. She was obviously trying to avoid any sort of scandal that would affect her chances.

I caught her eye once at some meeting for the department heads and saw nothing of the warmth, sparkle or love I was used to; only steely determination. I feared that she no longer loved me, that perhaps the night that we spent in the cottage had been the last. Perhaps she realised our affair could no longer continue. I had a picture in my head of us growing old together surrounded by our grandchildren. For twenty-five years I loved her and I was convinced that she felt the same way about me, but for the first time I wondered if I had been wrong all along.

Perhaps she didn't love me after all; that we'd come together in moments of mutual weakness and the night spent at the cottage was her way of testing if we were truly compatible.

Finally our divorce papers were ready, Ginny and I arranged for Lily to stay at Mrs Weasleys so we could resolve things. I poured us each a glass of wine and we sat opposite each other at the long dining table of Grimmauld Place. I removed the papers from my attaché case, we both placed our wand tips on the wax seal of the documents, and I extracted the papers and led them in front of her. She pulled them towards her and cast them with a critical eye before looking up at me.

"Harry, I wondered if we could talk first," she asked sweetly.

I nodded. She slid the papers to one side and held my hands.

"Ginny… I…"

"Don't talk, my darling," she said softly. "I've got some new terms that you're going to find more agreeable."

I eyed her suspiciously as she retrieved new papers from her handbag and wordlessly pushed them over to me. I quickly scanned over the parchment, my mouth becoming dry as a feeling of nausea swept over me.

"What… The fuck, Ginny?" I asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Did you think I didn't know about you?" she said in a dangerous voice. "You think I didn't know about you and that mudblood cunt?"

I clenched my fists as I opened my mouth.

"For years, Harry," she continued, in barely a whisper. "For years you thought you'd got away with everything, but I know all your dirty secrets! You fucking betrayed me on our fucking wedding night!"

"You've no proof!" I thundered.

"I fucking saw you!" she screamed. "Splashing and flailing in the swimming pool!"

My stomach dropped and she leaned back with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Why didn't you say anything?" I asked.

"I thought it was a one-off, Potter," she said with pure venom. "It was only when Luna finally admitted to me what she'd seen at Ron's wedding and when Draco told me what he'd seen at the Hogwarts reunion. I thought for a long time that she'd put a stop to it all, that you loved me like you should." I attempted to speak but just couldn't find the words. "It was when I found out that you'd booked a cottage in the New Forest while I was away that I realised you never stopped betraying me!"

Anger surged through me. "You've ruined my fucking life, you bitch!" I roared, pounding my fists on the table.

"You will sign these terms," she said, her voice returned to its previous sweetness.

Bile rose to the back of my throat as I read the terms in more detail. She demanded that I completely sign over Grimmauld Place to her, a large chunk of my fortune and most sickeningly, no custody or visitation of our children. I flipped over the page and read the final term, my immediate resignation from the Auror Office.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I growled.

She watched me with cold fury. "You will sign, Harry. You'll sign and you'll be fucking grateful that I'm not taking you for everything you've got."

"And if I refuse?"

Ginny folded her arms and licked her blood red lips. "Then all of this becomes public, Harry. Every sordid detail. That mudblood slut's chance of becoming Minister…" She paused for effect. "Crushed. Both of your reputations destroyed. Ron's marriage and your friendship gone. If only you'd kept your dick in your pants, this wouldn't be happening."

"You bitch," I spat.

"It's not me who's in the wrong, Harry," she said acidly. "Once you've signed, you'll make the unbreakable vow to adhere to these conditions." She pushed over a quill and an ink bottle. "Now sign and our bonder will be here shortly."

She had me well and truly backed into a corner, literally no way out. I reluctantly picked up the quill and signed the document, she stowed the parchment back in her handbag. I drained the last of the wine from my glass and lit a cigarette to calm myself.

"You know I don't like you smoking in here."

"Fuck you."

I smoked in silence for a moment. She glared at me before the click of the front door caught my attention; there came a soft knock on the dining room door. Luna entered the room with her usual grace and didn't return my smile.

"Are you ready Ginny?" she asked softly, with her back to me. My ex-wife nodded and Luna withdrew her wand from within the folds of her silver-grey hooded travelling cloak. "Please take each other's hands."

I obeyed and a thin red line of light spilled slowly from the tip of her wand, joining our hands together.

"Will you, Harry James Potter, agree to be bound by the terms of the document you have just signed?"

"I will," I replied dully.

"Will you, Harry James Potter, agree to keep the terms of the document secret from all?"

"I will."

"Will you, Harry James Potter, agree to leave this house tonight, never to return?"

"I will."

The thin red line of light changed from deep red to gold before slowly fading from sight.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Harry," said Luna quietly.

I shook my head as Ginny let go of my hand. I grabbed my wand and made my way upstairs to the bedroom. I packed a small bag of essentials, a few photographs and a few changes of clothes. I removed my wedding ring, left it on the bedside table and stumped back downstairs. I was surprised to find Ginny waiting for me, but I brushed past her. She spoke as I put my hand on the front door.

"Don't think I don't know who Rose Weasley's real father is," she hissed.

Nausea again swept over me as I left number 12, Grimmauld Place for the final time. I took a deep breath and disapparated with a small _pop_, landing heavily in the dark alleyway adjacent to the Leaky Cauldron. I straightened my cloak and entered the busy pub with my hood up. I didn't receive a second glance as I pushed my way to the bar.

"What can I get for you, luvvie?" asked the cheerful barmaid. I noticed a flash of recognition as I lowered my hood.

'I'll need a room for a few days, miss," I replied.

She smiled sweetly and reached for the large, leather bound guest book. "Room seven is free, Mr Potter," she said, retrieving a large iron key from a wall mounted cabinet. "It's eleven Galleons a night, bed and breakfast."

I handed over a heavy pouch of coins and stowed the key within my robes.

"Anything else I can get you?"

"Bearhuggers whiskeys please, miss," I replied. "And leave the bottle."

oooOOOooo

I awoke the following morning feeling distinctly grumpy and very hung-over. As I showered and dressed for work I noticed a very thin, red line around my right wrist. I poked at it with my wand and realized with horror that the line of scarlet must be part of the unbreakable vow; that I needed to complete the agreements. Since I'd not spoken to anyone about our divorce or been back to Grimmauld, it must be related to the specific terms of the divorce. I realised quite quickly that what this meant, and with a heavy heart, I left my room for the Ministry of Magic.

I used the Floo connection from the bar of the pub, arriving at the Ministry in a flash of green light. I charmed the soot from my robes as I walked through the atrium and into a waiting lift, which banged and crashed its way to level two. I wound my way through the maze that of the DMLE to the Auror Office, I entered my office with a swish of my wand. I settled at my desk and poured myself a whiskey, which I downed with a shudder.

There seemed little point for anymore procrastinating. Taking a deep breath in order to compose myself, I gathered up a piece of fresh piece of parchment, readied my quill and addressed my letter to the Minister. It took more than half an hour to write my letter of resignation. I tried to keep it as simple as possible. I waived my right to a Ministry pension and recommended Auror Superintendent Ronald Weasley as my successor. I signed and dated the parchment and sealed it with a blob of black wax, embossing it carefully with the Potter crest using the ring on my right hand.

I collected my personal possessions from my office and placed them carefully in my attaché case. Sweeping my wand in a wide arc, I wordlessly cast a _'scorgify' _charm that left the office gleaming. I took a last look around, locked the door behind me and made my way up to level one.

The meeting with Minister Weasley was brief but cordial. Though he accepted my resignation with regret, he did question my motives. I merely lifted my sleeve to show him the faint thin red line wrapped around my wrist.

"Ah… The unbreakable vow," he said sagely. "Well, we'll say no more then."

As we spoke I noticed the red line began to fade from my wrist. I placed my Ministry I.D card, Warrant card and key for my office on his desk. The Minister thanked me for my near twenty years of service and shook my hand.

"Potter, just one last thing… You weren't coerced into this were you?"

I shook my head as I lied to the Minister and raised my hand in farewell, closing the heavy double doors behind me. I felt odd as I left the Ministry, slightly lightheaded as the pressures and responsibilities of work lifted from my shoulders. I took the Floo back to Diagon Alley and checked my current finances at Gringotts. The goblin who dealt with my affairs gave me a questioning glance but confirmed they had completed a series of asset transfers, leaving me with the region of one and a half million Galleons in my vault. The goblin informed me that some items were not transferred into new ownership but could only be passed to my descendants. I quickly realised this as the gold of the House Potter ring gleamed from my right hand. I refilled my money bag with Galleons and changed some for muggle money just in case.

I hurried back to the Leaky, keeping to the shadows with my hood up. The street was already busy, but no one paid me the slightest bit of attention. I quickly stopped at the apothecary to get a few top-ups to my potion kit. The elderly witch took my money without giving me a further glance. I stepped back out into the bright sunlight; I paused for a second as I overheard two middle-aged witches gossiping.

"Resigned from the Auror Office, I'd heard," said one.

Her friend nodded knowingly. "I'd heard he'd been rather caught with his pants down."

The two witches cackled with laughter. Frowning, I made sure my hood kept my face in shadow and made my way back to the pub. The Leaky was just as crowded as the street outside. I pushed my way to the bar and ordered a beer, a whiskey chaser and the lunch special, pea and ham soup. While I was waiting I overhead snatches of conversation, _"I heard she divorced him," _and _"Someone said he was having an affair." _I downed the whiskey and took my soup and beer and sat in an empty booth, leaving my hood up.

I quickly ate my soup and sluiced down the beer, all the time listening for gossip. It seemed quite clear that my resignation had made the lunchtime edition of the Prophet. Speculations for the reason behind it ranged from being in the running for Minister for Magic to I'd been caught in a broom cupboard with a young female intern. I left my booth, passed a couple of Galleons to the smiling barmaid and made my way back to room seven.

Suddenly a flash of inspiration hit me and I realised that I wasn't alone in this. I needed a way out, a fresh start somewhere. There was no way I wanted to potentially jeopardise Hermione's ambitions, with my carreer in the Auror Office over, I felt no need to even remain as a resident of the United Kingdom. I sat at the desk, took a deep breath and wrote a letter to Fleur Weasley.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you've enjoyed this, it was fairly tricky to write but good fun all the same. Let me know what you think.

Hats off to my awesome beta, MrsFWDarcy.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Entende Cordiale – Summer 2017

My letter to Fleur complete, I pulled on my cloak, raised my hood and hurried to the post office. I paid a silver sickle for the owl delivery to my ex-sister-in-law. I walked back slowly to my room, trying to work out in my next move. The amount of gossip flying around was extremely worrying. Thankfully, I hadn't heard Hermione's name mentioned yet. I hoped her reputation would remain intact and the truth buried. I had faith in Fleur; I prayed she'd be sympathetic.

A few hours later I heard the tap of an owl at my window; I rushed over and seized the letter from the owl's leg. I unrolled the beautiful pale pink parchment with a tap of my wand and quickly read the brief contents.

_Harry,_

_Thank you for your letter. I think your situation is best discussed in person, in private. Bill is abroad just now so come over to Shell Cottage and I will make supper._

_ With love,_

_ Fleur_

I cast the letter into the fireplace and watched it burn, I was flooded with a sense of relief that at least she would see me, I wasn't sure how much she knew.

I spent the afternoon quietly writing letters to James and Albus. I found it extremely difficult to try and word the letter without breaking the terms of the unbreakable vow or giving them out and out untruths. I eventually settled on explaining that I had to go away and I wouldn't see them over the summer holidays. I figured this would buy me time, if nothing else. The afternoon wore on and the shadows outside grew longer. I eventually lit the oil lamp on my desk and checked my pocket watch. Time was getting on so I selected a clean shirt from my bag and took a shower.

Suitably dressed and with a sense of nervous trepidation I buttoned up my cloak, raised my hood and left the Leaky. I disapparated with a small _pop_, landing gently in the garden of Shell Cottage. With a twinge of sadness I regarded the grave of Dobby for a moment before I knocked softly on the front door. Fleur answered and, as usual, my breath caught in my chest. Age certainly hadn't diminished her beauty; if anything, it seemed to enhance it. Her tall willowy figure and long white-blonde hair were just as lovely as ever; not a wrinkle on her perfect face.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle," I said as I bowed and kissed her hand.

"Good evening 'Arry," she said, kissing me on both cheeks. "Please come in."

I followed her into the cosy cottage and leaned up against the kitchen counter. I made to speak, but she shushed me impatiently and handed me a bottle of wine. I uncorked the bottle; poured us both a glass and she directed me to take a seat at the kitchen table.

"Supper first, zen we talk," she said. I smiled and relaxed for what felt like the first time in days.

Supper was truly delicious. I turned down a second helping of raspberry chocolate tart and Fleur opened another bottle of wine. We moved into the sitting room. She sat next to me on the sofa and I refilled our glasses.

"Now, 'Arry. Tell me everyzing."

I took a gulp of wine and fumbled in my pocket for my cigarettes. "Do you mind?" I asked. She shook her head and retrieved a clean ashtray from under the coffee table. I lit a cigarette and turned to her. "Well, Fleur, this isn't easy," I paused and took a deep breath. "I cheated on Ginny. I betrayed our marriage vows…and not just once either."

Fleur swore under her breath in French but made no interruption, so I continued. "I thought I was in love, for a long time… Fleur, I didn't _want _to hurt anyone." I caught her eye and I was suddenly consumed with self-doubt. "I'll leave now, if you want," I said quietly.

"Non, non, 'Arry," she replied with a tinkling laugh. "Love makes fools of uz all."

I ploughed on with my sorry tale. I explained very carefully about the divorce, not wanting to break the terms of the unbreakable vow. Again Fleur swore under her breath. Finally I reached the part I feared the most to tell. I drained my wineglass and closed my eyes for a second.

"Did you know that Hermione is in the running to be the next Minister for Magic?" I asked in barely a whisper. She nodded. "I'm afraid the truth will come out and I'll have wrecked her chances." I bowed my head.

"I understand 'Arry, and I do not judge." She leaned a little closer to me. "So, 'ow iz eet I can 'elp?" she asked softly.

I refilled our glasses and faced her again. "I think I'd like to move to France, at least until this has all blown over."

Fleur seemed to consider this for a couple of moments, her brow knitted in concentration. Finally she looked up and gave me a wide smile. "I 'ave an idea, 'Arry," she said. "My leetle sister Gabrielle works for the Ministère Magique François in Paris, I think she can 'elp you."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "She'd be willing to help me?"

"I think zat she will," replied Fleur. "I will send 'er an owl in ze morning and ask 'er to write back to you."

"I can't thank you enough, Fleur," I said hoarsely as I pulled her into a tight hug.

"It eez nuzzing, 'Arry," she said, standing up. "You would like a nightcap?" She took a bottle of brandy from a corner cupboard and summoned a pair of stout glasses from the kitchen. She poured us a generous measure, we clinked glasses and I sipped my drink, feeling a warm flush reaching my cheeks.

"You will stay 'ere tonight, 'Arry, non?" She asked. "Ze guest room iz ready if you like."

"That would be great, Fleur, thanks," I replied. Truth was that after the wine and brandy, which she'd insisted on topping back up, I was feeling rather tipsy and drunk-apparating was generally frowned upon.

We shared one more brandy and she showed me to the guest room. I thanked her again.

"I do not forget, 'Arry," she said softly. "You saved my sister all those years ago and I 'ope this goes some way to paying zat debt."

I flushed, embarrassed as she embraced me and planted a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Goodnight Fleur," I said.

"Goodnight 'Arry."

oooOOOooo

I spent the next few days cooped up in Room seven at the Leaky. On my return from Shell Cottage I found a large trunk waiting for me in my room. Inside was every item of clothing I owned, a few books and photographs. It seemed that however I'd treated Ginny, she wasn't entirely heartless. I stowed the trunk in the corner of my room and I took a seat at the window awaiting Gabrielle's owl.

A few days later I was startled by the tapping of an owl at my window. I rushed over and allowed the tired looking eagle owl in, taking the roll of parchment from its leg. I unrolled the paper and read the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm coming to London via international portkey so we can discuss arrangements. Meet me at the London Ministry's arrival area. I'll be on the 19:00 key from Paris._

_ Yours,_

_ Gabrielle Delacour_

I checked my pocket watch. I still had a couple of hours to kill. I selected a fresh shirt and my sharpest suit, smoothing the creases with a flick of my wand. I used the time to further investigate the contents of my trunk, took a shower and made my best attempt to look presentable for when Gabrielle arrived.

Rather than dirtying my suit with the Floo network, I apparated directly into the Atrium at the Ministry. Walking straight past the lifts, I made my way over to International Arrivals. I had a few minutes to spare so I took a seat in the waiting area. A cool female voice sounded from a trumpet shaped speaker in the corner of the room announcing the arrival of the 19:00 Portkey from Paris. I stood up and nervously smoothed my suit. When the door to the arrivals area opened, a wild looking Warlock was the first to emerge, followed by a pair of elderly witches and a harassed-looking businessman who seemed to have some difficulty in making his way through the crowd. I chuckled quietly as he rebounded off the doorframe.

Gabrielle was the last one to exit. As she walked towards me, my mouth went dry and my surroundings seemed to go out of focus. I had to remind myself to breathe as I looked at her. She was astonishingly beautiful, slightly shorter than her sister, but more voluptuous as well. She wore a very fitted dark blue dress that ended about mid-thigh, a pair of peep-toe high heels and a delicate diamond necklace around her throat. Her hair was the same colour as her sisters, just cut a little shorter.

"'Arry!" she called in a musical voice. "'Ow wonderful to see you again!"

"_Enchanté," _I replied. She embraced me and kissed me on both cheeks. My thoughts seemed to get even foggier with the close contact. Then I realised the issue and raised my occlumency shields against the part-Veela. In an instant, the world came in to sharp focus, though Gabrielle's beauty wasn't in the slightest bit diminished.

"Gabrielle, how are you?" I asked politely.

"I'm very good, 'Arry," she replied, taking my arm. "Eet iz good to back in England."

We left the arrivals area and made our way to the Atrium; I leaned and whispered in her ear. "Gabrielle," I said softly. "Could you lower your allure a little, I'm hanging on by a thread here."

"But of course 'Arry," she responded with a tinkling laugh. "Eet iz not az easy to control sometimes."

She gave me a huge flirtatious wink and squeezed my arm. I felt the pressure on my mind release so I dropped my shields. "Thank you," I said. "Now, where are you staying? Somewhere in London? The Leaky Cauldron?"

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I 'ave booked a room at ze Savoy. We 'ave a table reserved for eight o'clock." I nodded as we walked to the apparition point. "Side-along alright?" I asked. She smiled and tightened her grip on my arm as we disapparated. We landed in a side street adjacent to the famous London hotel. I smoothed my suit and she pulled a fine lace cardigan over her bare arms. She took my arm again as we walked over to the grand entrance, the porters tripping over themselves to greet us.

She strode confidently over to the main desk. I caught her arm and whispered that I'd wait at the bar. She gave me a wide smile, which caught me off guard and I left feeling vaguely contented, like I'd been confounded. I entered the luxurious bar and took a seat at an empty table where a tall, thin, bow-tied waiter hurried over to me. I ordered a gin and tonic and asked for a newspaper. He returned quickly with a tall glass and a copy of the Times. I fumbled in my jacket pocket, withdrew my moneybag and extracted a £20 note; the waiter didn't even bat an eyelid as I told him to keep the change.

After a half an hour or so, I finished the newspaper and drank another gin and tonic, when I felt a general hush descend over the room. I turned in my seat to see Gabrielle entering the bar. She had changed outfits and was now wearing little black dress, black heels with red soles, her hair tied in an elegant knot at the base of her slender neck and a slash of scarlet across her full lips. Every pair of eyes in the place followed her to my table. She leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. I was still seated and received an eyeful of her generous cleavage. I was ready this time and raised my shields so that I would actually be able to form coherent words.

"Gabrielle, you got changed," I stuttered.

"But ov course," she giggled, "I couldn't come to dinner wearing zat old dress." She waved her hand airily, making her breasts jiggle. I concentrated on my shields and the waiter rushed over. She spoke in rapid French and he returned extremely quickly with a bottle of 1962 Dom Pérignon in an ice bucket. He uncorked and poured a pair of flutes, seemingly unaware or unaffected by her.

I inclined my head at the waiter, mouthed the word _'how?'_ She leaned towards me and I caught the scent of her perfume. My shields wavered and I redoubled my efforts.

"'E is not liking girls," she whispered as the waiter left, a faint smile playing around her lips. I chuckled and sipped my champagne. "Gabrielle," I whispered. "Your allure, you're doing it again. Please?"

"Oh, 'Arry, I am sorry," she apologised, a faint flush on her flawless cheeks.

A short while later another bow-tied waiter came and escorted us to a private dining room where a table was elaborately laid for two. We were seated and I picked a few likely looking items from the menu. Gabrielle seemed completely at ease and, after placing her order in fluid French, the waiter scurried away.

I panicked for a moment. I had some muggle money on me but I doubted it was enough to even cover the cost of the drinks, let alone a formal dinner. She seemed to realise my anxiety and extracted a shiny black card from her purse. _'Papa' _she said simply. It took a moment for me to realise what she meant, but once I caught her meaning a sense of relief coursed through me.

The meal was wonderful and when it was finished, we ordered another bottle of champagne. As we left the dining room, a porter followed us with the bottle in its ice bucket and we made our way to her suite.

The porter ushered us into the magnificent room which was at least three times the size of my old sitting room at Grimmauld Place. I took a seat on one of the large sofas. The porter left and she sat opposite me, crossing her legs. I gulped.

"To business, 'Arry," she said with a smile. "I 'ave been in touch wiz ze Ministère Magique de l'Intérier and 'ave ze forms for a short term visa. Ze Ministère Magique François, zey are excited to 'ave ze famous 'Arry Potter to stay."

I grinned and signed the presented documents. She rolled them up and carefully stowed them in her handbag. "Now, you will come to Paris by Portkey," she continued, rummaging in her bag and produced a ticket. "On Sunday, you can stay wiz me and we will find you somewhere to live."

"You'd do this for me?" I questioned. "You know why I'm leaving England, right?"

"Oui, oui, of course," she replied with a soft laugh. "I do not care about zat."

I signed a few more papers and we shared another glass of champagne. I checked my pocket watch and realised the late hour. I stood up and took her hand.

"It's late, I'd better go," I said sadly.

"Of course, 'Arry," she answered softly.

She showed me to the door. I turned to kiss her on the cheek, but she moved her head and I kissed her on her soft red lips instead. She pulled me closer by my jacket lapels and the kiss deepened. I felt her tongue against my lips, my shields completely gone. Our tongues met, my hands cupping her firm derrière, arousal roaring through me. I fought to gain control and broke the kiss and the briefest flash of disappointment flashed across her face.

"Goodnight, Gabrielle," I whispered in her ear.

"Goodnight, 'Arry," she whispered throatily.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for taking the time to read this, it was another fun chapter to write.

Thanks again to my Beta, MrsFWDarcy, without her this story would be a jumbled up mess.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Liberté, egalité, fraternité – Summer 2017

When I first arrived in Paris, Gabrielle, looking as enchanting as ever, was there to meet me. She took me back to her apartment in Saint-Germain-des-Prés in the sixth arrondissement of the beautiful city. Her enormous accommodations were a testament to the wealth and power of the Delcours. We lasted about five minutes before we were naked and in bed together.

A few days later, having been shown around the city, she introduced me to several important members of the Ministère Magique François and I signed some more paperwork. One evening in her apartment she asked where I wanted to live.

"Somewhere warm, near the ocean," I replied.

She said she knew just the place. We disapparated from Paris and arrived in a small fishing village just outside the seaside resort of Biarritz. She confessed she'd found a small cottage while looking for a holiday home for herself but found it a little _too _rural. The cottage was just a few hundred meters off of the beach, it came with a series of sheds, outbuildings and an acre of land. Gabrielle took a note of the estate agents address, and we apparated into the centre of Biarritz to find the office.

The estate agent, an oily man in a cheap suit, practically fell over his own feet when Gabrielle walked through the door. He informed us that the cottage was available, the price in the region of €280,000. They negotiated sharply in rapid French, then she sat back, suddenly satisfied as the agent fumbled around in a filing cabinet for the documents for the cottage. He seemed oddly disoriented. I suspected that Gabrielle was using her allure to smooth things along. She barked further instructions at the man and then sashayed from the office. I hurried after her. She gripped my hand and we arrived back in Paris, more specifically, in her bedroom. I fought the impulse but lost it as she captured my lips with hers.

We visited the Paris branch of Gringotts bank the following morning, located within the Wizarding Quarter of the city. A very large and open square dominated, shops and cafes jostling for space around the edges. I stopped to look at a tall obelisk in the centre, the French motto carved onto its smooth marble surface. Inside the bank I transferred Galleons from my vault in London into stacks of Euro notes, I bundled them together into the safety of my attaché case.

As I continued to spend time with Gabrielle, I was beginning to understand more and more of the language. Gabrielle's rapid speech didn't seem quite as fast and, to my surprise and delight, I began to answer simple questions in French. She gave me a proud smile every time I successfully constructed even the simplest sentences.

The oily estate agent and a lawyer, a small hook-nosed man with beady eyes was waiting for us in Biarritz, I signed some paperwork and laid the stacks of notes on the desk. I needed have worried about anything, with Gabrielle in the room they were putty in her hands. The money was counted and the documents checked, I was handed a sheaf of papers and a bunch if heavy iron keys.

The cottage was everything I'd hoped for; two bedrooms, a sitting room and small kitchen. Some of the original furniture remained, including a fantastic oil fueled range cooker in the kitchen. The exterior walls were covered in a simple whitewash. Gabrielle disappeared for half an hour and returned with an elderly woman from the village who would help with domestics around the place.

Two weeks passed and I was ready to spend my first night in my new home, having stayed in Paris until the preparations were complete. Gabrielle took great delight in helping me furnish the cottage, picking out some antique pieces, new curtains and bedclothes. The cottage was warm and inviting and cosy. I spent that first afternoon writing letters to my children, explaining as best I could that I had bought a house and I'd be staying in France. No doubt they would question Ginny about my letters. I wondered idly what she'd tell them.

There was a soft knock at my front door and Gabrielle swept into my sitting room, beautiful as ever. She produced a bottle of wine. I uncorked it and she poured while I cooked us a simple, light supper. I chatted to her in broken French and she giggled when I made mistakes. Later on, in bed together, I studied her flawless face, bathed in moonlight as she slept. I blinked and her form changed, her hair from silvery-blonde to loose, soft brown curls, a smattering of tiny freckles across her nose, the familiar purple smudges under her eyes. I awoke with a start. Gabrielle pressed her nude body against me, murmuring in French and turned over. I sighed, cuddling into her and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

oooOOOooo

Three years passed and Gabrielle and I were no longer together. In fact, we'd barely lasted six months as a couple. I had known all along that it wouldn't last. A quiet life in rural France didn't suit her. She loved the bright lights and noise of the city. We parted on good terms, if ever I had to stay overnight in Paris I was always welcome in her apartment, and we'd invariably end up in bed together.

Gabrielle had helped secure me a job within the Ministère Magique François as a member of a small sub-committee that advised the Sûreté Nationale, the French equivalent of the Auror Office, so for three days a week I would apparate to Paris. The work was undemanding but it really helped with my French and within twelve months I was all but fluent.

I received an owl that summer with a letter from my son, James. He had just graduated from Hogwarts and being of age, Ginny was finally able to tell him about our divorce. His tone in the letter seemed angry so I replied and included a ticket for an international Portkey to Biarritz.

A few days later I met him at the arrivals area, a disused waiting room at the railway station and greeted him with a gruff, one armed hug. He had grown so much in the three years since I'd seen him. He stood both taller and broader than me. I gripped his arm and we disapparated, landing in my garden with a thump. I showed him around the cottage and outbuildings, the beach and the sailing boat that I was attempting to patch up. Later on I took him for a drink in the local village pub.

We talked for what seemed like hours as we sat on a large driftwood trunk, bleached white by the sun. We both went to our beds that evening with a sense of closure.

The following evening Gabrielle apparated over from Paris for supper. James was mesmerised before I whispered in her ear that James wasn't used to her allure.

"But ov course, James," she said with a throaty laugh. "I forget 'ow some people are affected by eet." James's eyes suddenly refocused and he grinned at me.

"Easy now, Madame," I said softly in French. "He's only seventeen." I winked at her.

"'Ow dare you call me Madame," she said in English. "I will be _mademoiselle_ for ever." She smiled and sat up primly.

It was with a heavy heart that I took James back to the departure point in Biarritz to catch his portkey. We had a great week together. He promised to come back when he has his Christmas break at the Auror Office. I told him to send my love to his brother and sister and bade him goodbye.

oooOOOooo

Another two years passed, and by the spring of 2022 I was well and truly integrated into my local community. I knew all my neighbours by name, I spoke and wrote in French as well as I ever did in English. In fact, I could barely remember when I last used my native tongue.

I received an owl that spring, one that I'd been waiting for, from my son, Albus, who I had not seen for seven long years. The tone of his letter was slightly more measured than that of his older brother. He asked if Rose could come and visit with him during their Easter break. I organised Portkeys for them and sent the tickets via owl to Hogwarts. I made arrangements with my elderly housekeeper and made up the guest room for Albus and mine for Rose. I left the cottage, disapparated to Biarritz and met the pair of them.

Albus was the very image of me at seventeen; skinny, slightly pinched cheeks, glasses and spiky, messy black hair. Rose, on the other hand was a petite version of Hermione, with a pale, heart-shaped face framed by very dark brown loose curls, her eyes startlingly green.

I greeted the teenagers politely. Albus made as if to shake my hand but changed his mind and embraced me warmly. He released me and Rose hugged me as well, kissing my cheeks. I turned away, embarrassed. I didn't want them to see the tears in my eyes. I hastily wiped them away. I took their hands and we disapparated, landed gently in the garden.

As with James, I showed them around my home. Albus seemed particularly interested in my sailing boat. After four years of working on it, it was nearing completion. While Albus was distracted with the boat, Rose took my arm and we sat together overlooking the beach.

"I went to see mum just before we left," she said in her soft, musical voice. "She told me about my father."

A sudden wave of love rushed over me, just as it had when I held her when she was a baby. "You understand why I had to leave now?" I asked her, the English words feeling unfamiliar in my mouth.

"I do understand," she whispered. "Dad."

"Does Albus know?"

"Of course he does, I couldn't keep anything from him. He's my best friend." Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "Even if he is a Slytherin."

I laughed out loud and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "I've always loved you," I said to her. "From the very second I held you in my arms."

"That's more than Dad. I mean, Ron does," she said in an undertone. "I think somehow he always knew. He was always much closer to Hugo."

Albus joined us on the bench. "You guys alright?" he asked in his quiet, serious voice.

"We're great, Albie," she said, leaning her head against my shoulder.

Gabrielle joined us for supper as she always did on Fridays. She helpled me prepare the food as Albus and Rose laid the table.

"Careful with your allure around Albus," I said to Gabrielle in French.

"'Arry, my allure does not work on 'im."

"He's gay?"

"Oui."

"Fair enough," I said. "At least he'll be able to concentrate on his supper, unlike his brother James.

She chuckled and playfully swatted my arm. "You know I cannot 'elp it." I grinned at her and we took the plates of food into the dining room.

The week passed far too quickly for my liking. We walked, surfed, sunbathed, and talked for hours on every kind of subject. Albus spoke proudly of his big brother, now an Auror Constable for the DMLE, and his little sister, my little girl, who was a Gryffindor Prefect. I swelled with pride as they told me of being Head Boy and Girl. Albus spoke of his flair for potions and his plans to join the research department in the Ministry of Magic after graduation. Rose told me she'd like to travel.

Finally, the morning of their departure arrived. We apparated to the station, tears prickling my eyes as we said our goodbyes. I thanked them profusely for coming and wished them well. Rose hung back for a moment.

"Dad," she said quietly. "Can I come back here for a while, once I've graduated?"

"Of course, my darling," I said happily. "I'd love to have you to stay."

She gave me a wide smile and hugged me tightly. "Write to mum," she added in a whisper in my ear. "She misses you."

I nodded to her. She grasped Albus's hand as the Portkey glowed blue and they disappeared.

I mulled over Rose's words for the next few weeks before I finally mustered the courage to put quill to parchment. The letter ended up much longer than I'd expected. I wrote of my life in France, my pride in my children, my regret for not being there for them, and my desire to see her again.

A few months later, the Ministère Magique François was on its annual summer break. I used the time to finish working on my boat, finally making it sea-worthy. With more than a little magical assistance I moved the boat down onto the beach, supported in its cradle I got on with the final few touches. I was filled with pride and sadness as I painted my boats name on her stern, the _'Hermione'_.

It was a sunny afternoon and as I was layering on the final coat of varnish on the wheelhouse roof, I caught sight of a lone figure walking slowly along the golden sand. I finished the last tricky bit and looked up again and recognised her, long soft brown curls loose around her shoulders, carrying her sandals as she walked barefoot towards me.

I jumped down from the boat and ran towards her, overcome with emotion, as I swept Hermione Granger up in my arms.

The End.

* * *

**A/N: **So there we have it, the completed story. I really hope you've enjoyed it, thank you to those who left reviews.

Final thanks to my amazing Beta, MrsFWDarcy. You've done a fantastic job and I can't thank you enough.


End file.
